


Business Casual

by blookythecat22



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Domestic Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Every kind of Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love that these are actual tags, I love this website, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing, Shopping, Shopping Malls, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, stevie and buck are v confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blookythecat22/pseuds/blookythecat22
Summary: Bucky threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Look at us. We defeated Nazis, Hydra, evil robots…and here’s where we meet our downfall—the menswear section of a Manhattan department store.”Post Civil War Bucky, in the process of trying to rebuild his life, gets an interview at his first-choice school. The dress code is "business casual," whatever that means, so Steve and Bucky go shopping. (It's ridiculous floof. If you want to see Buck and Stevie make out in a changing room, you've come to the right place)





	Business Casual

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually pretty canon compliant, with the exception of Bucky not being frozen again at the end of CACW.  
> (And Steve and Bucky had an established relationship pre-Winter Soldier, but I feel like that's basically canon?)  
> Also, I kind of ignored the whole "they're criminals now" thing. Eh, canon is depressing. This is fluff. Enjoy.
> 
> (It's rated Teen just for some handsy kissin' and passing mention of kinky stuffs. You know, light sexuality, parental guidance suggested and all that)

“Hey Buck, I’m home.” Steve dropped his keys into the dish by the door. “Buck?”

“In here, Steve.” Bucky’s voice was sort of choked up, like he’d been crying, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat with worry. Bucky sounded like he was in the kitchen, but Steve couldn’t see him.

Then he walked around the counter. “Oh.”

Bucky was sitting on the kitchen floor, leaned against the cabinets, an envelope in his hands.

“Is that…”

Bucky glanced up at Steve, gave him a tense smile. “Yeah.”

“Bucky…if they rejected you, then it’s their loss—“

“I haven’t opened it yet.” Bucky was worrying the corner of the envelope with his fingernails, and Steve’s heart twisted in his chest as he realized they were bitten down to the quick. He dropped to the floor and took Bucky’s hand in his.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He leaned in to give Bucky a kiss on his stubbled cheek. “What are you worried about?”

A college acceptance letter wasn’t enough to get him this worked up, was it?

Bucky lifted his gaze like it was heavy, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He shook his head. “I just…Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe I should have just gone back under.”

“You can’t think like that.” Now that he’d seen his eyes up close, Steve was pretty sure Bucky had been crying. He got up to pour him a glass of water. “You know I couldn’t have lost you again.” He sat back down and handed Bucky the glass, giving him a reproachful look. “I’ve had too many lonely nights already, Barnes.”

Bucky took the glass and passed Steve the envelope. “Fine. But you open it, I can’t.”

Steve reached over their heads towards the drawer above them. “Duck.”

Bucky did. “Seriously, Steve, are you getting scissors?”

Steve bit his tongue as he dug around blindly in the drawer. “Yes, I’m getting scissors. I wanna do this right.”

“You’re a genetically enhanced supersoldier, and you need scissors to rip a letter open?”

Steve grabbed the scissors and shoved the drawer shut. “To be fair, you’re a supersoldier too, and you couldn’t manage to open it at all, so…”

Bucky shoved him. “Shuddup, punk.” But he was smiling. That beautiful, radiant smile—it had been getting brighter lately, and nothing made Steve happier. _I don’t know if I’m worth all this to you,_ Bucky had told him. The big dork. Steve would do it all over again, happily, just to see that look on his face...

Steve tore his gaze away and slipped the scissors into the envelope. “Ready?” he asked.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. “Get it over with.”

Steve cut it open, slipped out the letter, and started to unfold it. And okay, maybe his hands were getting a little shaky, cause this meant _a lot_ to Bucky, and Steve didn’t know if he could stand to see his face get that dejected, kicked puppy look on it. Well, if they rejected his boyfriend, he’d reject them. He’d just punch them all in their stupid faces until they accepted him. Stupid school was probably run by Hydra anyway--

Steve read the first line, and gasped. “We congratulate you on being one of the candidates selected for…Bucky, they want you to come interview!”

“No way…” Bucky had been hunched over with his head in his hands, but now he snatched the letter from Steve, read the first line, and then handed it back. “Oh my god, oh my god…You read the rest, I can’t…”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. “Good grief, okay…There’s not much, let’s see…They want you to come in on Saturday….Dress business casual…Bring a copy of your passport? For God’s sake, you’re American, you just spent some time in Romania, they need to get over themselves…”

Bucky grabbed the letter again, his metal hand crumpling the paper a little. “Business casual, what does that mean? Ugh, do I have to go shopping?” He reached his right hand up to ruffle his hair. “I hate interviews.”

“Look on the bright side, at least you won’t be in a glass box for this one.”

“Don’t joke about that, Steve. I could have hurt you.”

Steve turned, smiled, and tackled his boyfriend onto the kitchen floor. He had him pinned for a moment before Bucky flipped him on his back and got a leg over him. Steve gave up and went limp against the cold tiles. “Can I get a kiss?”

Bucky leaned down, and Steve leaned up, trying to make their lips meet. Bucky’s metal hand was around his throat in a split second, pinning him back down to the floor.

Bucky smirked. “I don’t know if you deserve a kiss.”

Steve stuck his lower lip out in a pout. “Why not?”

“Cause, you teased me about the time I was stuck in a giant cube. That’s rude.”

“You’ve been stuck in more compromising positions before.”

Bucky’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer, their lips an inch apart. “Stevie, I wrote the book on compromising positions.”

Steve tried to lift his head again; Bucky tightened his grip.

“C’mon, I want a kiss.”

“What’s the magic word?” Bucky’s breath was hot on Steve’s mouth.

Steve wrapped his hands around the metal arm, yanked on it. It wasn’t going anywhere. “Please?”

Bucky nipped Steve’s bottom lip ever so lightly with his teeth. “That’s not it.”

Steve groaned. “Unf, Bucky, come on…Pretty please?”

Bucky leaned even closer, stopped when their lips were just barely brushing. “That ain’t it, either,” he whispered.

Steve squirmed. “Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?” he breathed, desperate.

Bucky sat back with a frown. “Steve…Did you forget our safeword?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, his mind reeling. “I...in my defense, I never really used it…”

“Oh my god. You actually forgot. I can’t believe you.” Bucky shook his head. “Well, you better hope you remember it.”

Steve groaned in pure exasperation. “Bucky…” he whined. “Give me a hint, at least.”

“The American flag…?”

Steve thought back as hard as he could. When they’d first thawed him out of the ice, things had been fuzzy, and receding fast, and for awhile, he’d worried that his past would disappear altogether. But the memories from back then were coming easier these days, the more time he spent around Bucky.

He thought back to their apartment, to the flag hanging over his bed by the window…

“Stars and stripes!”

Bucky let out the breath he’d evidently been holding. “Can’t believe I actually remembered something you didn’t, for once.”

“Stars was maybe, stripes was stop. I remember.” Steve reached a hand behind Bucky’s neck, pulled his head down. “Now c’mere, you owe me a kiss, you jerk.”

Bucky laughed softly against his mouth. “Punk,” he whispered, and kissed him, hard.

 

“So.” Bucky stared up at the massive concrete wall, at the gigantic letters spelling out the names of stores _._ “This is the mall.”

Steve nodded. He slipped his hand into Bucky’s and linked their fingers. His favorite thing about the 21st century, by far, was the fact that he could hold hands with Bucky, in public. It gave him a wild, bubbly feeling in his chest, like the first time he’d run after the serum. Like he could do anything.

Bucky squeezed his hand. “Business casual. We can do this, right?”

Steve nodded. “Definitely.”

Neither of them moved.

“Did Natasha ever write you back?” Bucky asked finally.

Steve frowned. “Yeah. She said her giving me outfit advice is the opposite of how the “gay best friend” thing is supposed to work.”

“Hmm. Tell her she’s being heteronormative.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

Bucky shrugged. “I read it in a twitter, I have no idea.”

 

As soon as they stepped in the door, a cold blast of air hit them in the face. Steve crinkled his nose. It smelled like perfume, and the whole place was too bright and sparkly. He saw a display of suits in the back corner and dragged Bucky towards it.

“Business. Casual.” He ran his fingers along the sleeve of a jacket, grabbed the tag to check the price. “Three hundred dollars? What the…You could buy a car for that when we were kids.”

Bucky laughed. “A really crummy car, maybe.” His face sobered as he stared around at all the options—khaki pants, navy sweaters, striped ties—he turned back to Steve. “Are you sure Nat can’t help us?”

Steve checked his phone again. “She said she’s stuck in a briefing, but if we send her pictures she’ll tell us if she approves.”

Bucky straightened his metal arm, rolled the wrist as the panels clicked into place. “Finding button-downs that fit this thing is gonna be a nightmare.”

Steve was staring at the selection of socks with a blank look on his face. “How is there this many options? Do these ones have…little pizzas on them? What?”

Bucky came up behind him and threw his right arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Look at us. We defeated Nazis, Hydra, evil robots…and here’s where we meet our downfall—the menswear section of a Manhattan department store.”

Steve was still staring at the socks, the hopeful light behind his eyes dying. “The pizza ones are too casual, right? But the solid black ones are too business…” His phone buzzed, and he looked down to see a message from Natasha: _Some tips so you old folks don’t have an actual heart attack: look for a collared shirt. Jacket and tie are optional. Most basic pants you can find. When in doubt, ere on the side of business rather than casual. GL._

“Alright, black socks it is. What does GL mean, Buck?”

Bucky shrugged. “You’ve been here a lot longer than I have. Golden Lab? Gas Light? Gar…Lic? I don’t know.”

Steve stuck the phone back in his pocket. “God’s…Love?”

“That seems kinda weird.”

“It makes more sense than garlic, you dingus.”

 

“Alright.” Steve was turning around in a circle, sweeping the displays of the third floor with his eyes one last time. “I think we’ve got a good selection.” He turned back to his boyfriend. Bucky’s arms were draped and piled with shirts, belts, pants, ties…

“My hair’s in my eyes,” Bucky whined. “Why is shopping this tiring? This is worse than basic training, I swear. I’m so sweaty, I can’t feel my feet—“

“Here.” Steve reached into Bucky’s back pocket where he kept his hair ties and raked his fingers through Bucky’s bangs, pulling them back into a bun. He leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. “Ah, gross, you are sweaty.”

Bucky craned his neck to shoot a glare back over his shoulder.

Steve grinned at him. “Okay, so I think the next step would be trying stuff on….There’s a changing room over by the prom dresses.”

“That’s on the _other_ side of the room.”

“I’m sure you can make it.”

 

“ _Six_ at a time?”

The blue-haired teenager behind the counter snapped her gum. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” Steve started sorting through the pile of clothing Bucky had dumped onto the counter. “One outfit at a time?”

Bucky nodded curtly. “Sounds like a good plan of attack to me.”

Steve grabbed a pair of dark pants, a checked shirt, and a blue V-neck sweater. “This together? What do you think?”

“If you think so,” Bucky said, shrugging.

Steve looked back down at the clothes. “You don’t like it?”

“Stevie, no, I just…I’m not good at this. But I trust you.” He grabbed the shirt and held it up to his chest appraisingly. “If anyone could make me look nice, would be you.”

Steve felt a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Not that hard of a job. You’d look good in a sack.”

“Yeah, I’d look good with a sack over my head—“

Steve shoved him. “You’re adorable, shut up.”

“If you two want to get a room, you’ll find there’s a whole hallway of them through that door,” said the blue-haired girl, folding shirts with a deadpan expression.

Bucky gave her a dirty look, and Steve pushed him towards the doorway. “C’mon, I wanna see if that shirt fits you.”

“Looks kinda tight.” Bucky went into one of the rooms on the left, and Steve sat outside. He heard Bucky grunt, then he heard the clang of his metal arm against the door, then a muffled swear.

“You need help?”

“I can dress myself, Steven.”

“If you say so.”

More grunting, more swearing. Then silence. Steve got up and tapped on the door. “Buck?”

“Oh, man…”

“Bucky, open the door. Lemme see.” He heard the click of the latch, and opened the door a crack to poke his head in. “Oh, no…”

Bucky leaned his head back against the wall. “Yeah.”

Steve reached out and poked at Bucky’s metal arm where it showed through the massive tear in the shirt’s sleeve. “You weren’t kidding. This thing does not fit button downs well.”

“It did, until I tried to bend my arm.”

Steve slipped inside and shut the door. “Here, maybe we can…take it off without…” Only the top button was fastened—evidently how Bucky had ripped it. Steve undid the button and carefully slipped the shirt off to examine it. “Well…I hope you liked it, cause I guess we’re buying it…Maybe we could sew it?”

“Sew it? Steve, I never learned how, and you’re terrible at it.”

“I could ask Nat…”

“We’re _not_ telling Nat about this.” Bucky’s voice was sharp.

Steve huffed a sigh and rolled the shirt up. “Fine. I guess we’ll have to get you a size up?”

Bucky held the metal hand up in front of his face, turned it over. The plates in his forearm shifted and clicked. He balled it into a fist.

Steve hated seeing that look on his face. He grabbed the hand and lowered it. “It’s fine…It’s fine. You’re gonna look nice. I promise.”

Bucky gave him a jaded look. “Cause everybody knows “rumpled, over-sized dress shirt” is the most professional thing you can wear…”

“A polo?”

“It’s a university interview, not a cocktail party on a golf course—“

“Hey, don’t knock polos. I happen to look good in polos.”

“I’ve never seen you wear a polo in my life.”

“Well…” Steve raised his chin defiantly. “You’ve been missing out then, haven’t you?”

The room was so tiny, their faces were already only a foot apart, but Bucky leaned forward to close the gap and kiss him. It was a gentle kiss, soft like a contented sigh or a summer breeze, and Steve reveled in the calm reassurance that it was _Bucky_ he was tasting, _Bucky_ who was pressed against him. Bucky, who Steve was never letting go of again.

Bucky pulled back, his eyes still closed, and whispered against Steve’s mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m always a problem for you, I’m sorry.”

Steve reached up to hold Bucky’s face in his hand and Bucky leaned against it, his eyes focused on Steve’s chin. Steve ducked to catch his eye. “Hey. I love you. I love your problems.”

Bucky looked at the floor, forehead still crinkled. Steve let the shirt fall to the ground and wrapped his arms around him, tight. He dropped his head onto Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re every one of my dreams come true. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, Bucky.” He turned his head and laid a soft kiss on Bucky’s neck, and finally, he felt Bucky’s arm wrap around him.

“Thanks, Steve,” he murmured, his fingers in the back of Steve’s hair. His voice got even softer. “I love you.”

Steve hugged him harder. When Bucky got… _dark_ , like this, or worse—and it had gotten much, much worse than this—Steve always struggled to say the right thing, do the right thing. He’d read books, watched videos on the internet, asked Sam a million questions. But sometimes, his words failed him, and he just did what came naturally—he held onto Bucky with everything he had. The way he used to, when their apartment was bitter cold, when Steve felt like his lungs were full of needles and he couldn’t stop shaking. The way he had in the mornings, when they had a moment of privacy that Steve knew they wouldn’t have for the rest of the day, knew brushing arms was the best they could get until nightfall. The way he had when he’d first got Bucky back, and all he’d wanted was to smell him, feel him, hear his breathing.

So Steve held him, tightly, fiercely, like nothing else mattered. Because in those moments, to Steve, nothing else did.

Eventually, Bucky pulled away, as much as he could in the tiny room. His eyes were wide, and a little wet, but he blinked them a few times, offering Steve an apologetic half-smile. “Sorr—“

Steve put a finger on his lips. “Shh. You’re fine. You’re good. I love you.” Bucky’s smile grew, became more genuine, and Steve smiled back. “My big, beautiful boyfriend who rips his way out of clothes.”

 

Steve threw the door open and shoved back into the changing stall, his arms piled with clothes. “So, I had an idea.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “Should I be scared?” He was leaned against the wall in the corner, arms folded. He’d put his T shirt back on.

Steve snapped his fingers at him. “Shirt off. No, it’s a good idea. Look.”

Bucky was still eyeing the clothes with a suspicious glare. “I really don’t wanna rip my way out of anything else…”

“You’re gonna like it. I think.” Steve looked back up from sorting through the shirts in his arms. “C’mon, strip.”

Bucky huffed at him and started pulling the T shirt over his head. “Are you at least going to stuff some ones in my waist band?”

“No, you’re my boyfriend, that means I don’t have to pay to see you naked. Lose the pants, too.”

Bucky muttered an insult Steve hadn’t heard since 1945, but he unbuttoned his pants.

Steve checked his phone. Natasha had texted him, _Anytime. How are you boys doing?_ so he wrote back, _Okay. Bucky had a little bit of an episode, but he’s feeling better._

He didn’t tell Bucky how much he told Natasha—which wasn’t much, really—but Steve knew she understood having your past hit you full force, out of nowhere. If she ever had advice, Steve took it as holy gospel.

 _Glad he’s feeling better,_ Natasha wrote back. _Don’t worry, it’s not shopping until you’ve had a mental breakdown in a changing room._

Steve smirked; how did she know? _At least he doesn’t have to try on bikinis._

 _I haven’t gone bikini shopping in years, thanks to your boyfriend._ She sent some of those little pictures of the laughing faces after it, so Steve assumed she wasn’t being too serious. He started to write her back when she texted him again. _But whatever you’re wearing, it’s never fun to look at yourself too hard in the mirror._

Steve sighed. He wasn’t sure he quite knew what that felt like. He wondered if it was similar to the feeling he used to get in his stomach when he saw the propaganda posters of himself, smiling like a self-righteous idiot.

“So what’s this bright idea?” Bucky’s voice brought Steve back to the present. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and threw on a smile.

“Um, I got you some shirts a size up, cause not doing a Bruce Banner out of your clothes seems like a priority…”

“Thanks.”

“And then, since I know you kinda wanted to overdress for this…” Steve found what he was searching for and held it up. “What about a vest on top? If you tuck the shirt in and roll the sleeves up, it should still look neat.”

Bucky’s face slowly spread into a grin. “That’s…actually kind of perfect.”

Steve allowed himself a cocky smile. “Well, the supersoldier program did pick me for my brains.”

Bucky came closer, put his hands on Steve’s hips. “Pretty sure they picked you cause you’re the sweetest guy in the universe.” He leaned in for a kiss; Steve gave him a quick peck on the lips and then shoved the outfit against his chest.

“Try it on.”

Bucky looked down at it, and then back up at Steve. “Seriously? I took all my clothes off for you, and now you want me to get dressed again?”

“That’s called _changing,_ Buck. Which is why this is a _changing room._ ”

“Is that where we are?” Bucky made no move to take the clothes, instead shoving Steve backwards and pressing him up against the wall. “Kind of crowded in here, isn’t it?” He leaned in for a kiss again. Steve responded by shoving a pair of blue slacks into his face—a little revenge for this morning, if he were being honest.

“Stay on task, Barnes.”

Bucky gave him a filthy look, but he took the pants and began tugging them on. The vest was grey, so Steve started picking out a shirt to match it. He settled on a light blue one with an understated pattern, and paired it with a dark blue tie. He looked back up to see Bucky turning in front of the mirror. The pants were snug—but in a good way. Steve’s eyes slid down his boyfriend’s back.

“Dat ass.”

Bucky spun around. “What?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s a thing people say now. It means your butt looks nice.”

“Oh.” Bucky twisted to regard himself in the mirror. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Steve smirked. Bucky had been acting more like his cocky self these days, and Steve was thrilled.

“Who taught you that?”

Steve held out the shirt. “Careful with this one. Uh, I don’t know, I just picked it up.”

Bucky slid the shirt onto his metal arm gingerly. “So, someone said that to you?”

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Bucky’s forced casual tone. “No, Bucky, I just heard it.”

Bucky paused to give him a skeptical look. “You’re only saying that cause you know I’d find them and beat them up.”

“Yes, I know, all too well.” He stepped over to help Bucky into the other sleeve, then started buttoning the shirt up. “You don’t have to defend my honor, sweetheart, I’m fine.”

“I just don’t like people ogling you. Never have. Serum or no, it’s your body.”

Steve smiled up at him. “I know, you have the best intentions.”

“I do.” Bucky smirked back. “Well, most of the time…” He pushed Steve against the mirror, and this time, Steve let it happen, parted his lips when Bucky leaned in.

After a few seconds he pulled away. “You know, we should still focus on getting dressed…”

Bucky groaned. “Stevie…”

“Which is why I think I should tuck this in.” Steve grabbed the shirt hem and stuffed his hand down the back of Bucky’s pants, cupped his ass. Bucky fell towards him with a laugh. “You sneaky bastard…”

Steve pushed him back gently. “Hey now, I gotta do the front.”

“Aaah…Steve, these pants are too tight for that.”

Steve took his time, unbothered. “Not my fault you can’t focus on getting dressed. You used to act like this when I helped you with your uniform, too, do you remember?”

Bucky made a noise, low in his throat. “Oh my _god…_ ” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, you were always too distract—Ah! Steve, c’mon. I’m gonna rip this outfit somewhere else, and it ain’t gonna be my sleeve.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Steve said, but he relented and pulled his hands up to straighten the shoulders. “There. Looks fine.” He stepped out of the way so Bucky could inspect himself in the mirror.

Bucky snorted. “Well, let’s hope _this_ doesn’t happen at my interview,” he said, gesturing at the bulge in his pants.

“Hah. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Put the vest on, I wanna see.”

Bucky obliged, still grumbling, but he stopped when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. “Wow. Not half bad.”

Steve spun him around again, looped the tie around his neck. “Hope I still remember how to do this.”

“Don’t you do it on yourself?”

“It feels backwards this way, though, it hurts my brain.”

“And you thought they picked you cause you were smart…”

“Hey, rude.” Steve looped the tie over, pulled it through, then adjusted it until it rested neatly against Bucky’s collar. Bucky turned back to the mirror as he tucked it into the vest.

“Whaddya think?”

Bucky straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin. “It’s alright. Do you think it’s maybe…A little too business? Not enough casual?”

Steve scratched his jaw. “Hm, maybe. Roll up the sleeves?” He reached out to help Bucky with the right one. “It’s…Better…” Steve turned his head sideways, face scrunched up in thought. “I’m gonna send a picture to Nat. Hold still.”

Bucky leaned back against the mirror, head turned to the side, looking like a GQ model. Steve’s heart fluttered. How was it possible to be that effortless and that beautiful at the same time?

“I thought you were taking a picture.”

Steve realized he’d just been standing there staring. He blushed and ducked his head, reaching for his phone. “Right. Sorry. You’re just, really, really handsome.”

Bucky gave him a crooked smile. “Noted, Rogers. Take the damn picture, I’m standing here posing like an idiot.”

 

“Natasha approves.”

Bucky looked up from the shirt he was folding. “Really?”

“Yeah. She says you could lose the tie, though.”

“Do you think I should?”

“Hmm…does make it easy to do this…” Steve grabbed the tie and yanked Bucky forward into a kiss. He let his other hand fist in Bucky’s hair, pulling a little, cause Bucky used to like that. Bucky mumbled something unintelligible and stuck his tongue in Steve’s mouth. Still liked it, then.

Bucky sunk his teeth into Steve’s bottom lip, and oh yes, Steve definitely still liked that. He let his thoughts dissolve into a hazy blur.

Bucky’s left hand found its way up Steve’s shirt, and he shivered. The metal was cold against his chest, but Bucky’s tongue was warm on his jaw, and Steve let his head fall back as Bucky’s mouth roamed lower, nipped at Steve’s neck softly.

“Unh…Bucky…Forget the tie, I wanna rip off every piece of clothing you’ve got on…”

Bucky’s laugh was warm, feather-light breath on Steve’s throat. “Sounds perfect.” Bucky reached up the cup Steve’s face, gazed at him for a moment, his stormy eyes flicking from Steve’s lips to his hair to his eyes. “You’re perfect.”

Steve’s cheeks were hot. “Nah,” he said. “Not quite.”

Bucky kissed him again. “As close to perfect…mm…as a person can be.” Bucky bit Steve’s lip so hard that he gasped a little. “Sorry, Stevie.” Bucky tongued the spot in apology.

“’S okay, I like it…”

“Well, at least I know you remember our safeword," Bucky said, his voice unbelievably sarcastic. 

Steve laughed into their kiss. “I told you, I never use it.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“Steve Rogers, you dirty kinkster. If the world only knew…”

Steve kissed him, hard, to shut him up. They fell back against the wall again, and Steve pressed himself against Bucky.

Bucky's breath hitched sharply. “God, these pants are way too tight…”

Steve laughed softly. “As soon as you ace your interview, come home and I’ll rip them off for you.”

Bucky’s metal arm slid down to grab Steve’s ass, hoisted him into the air. Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky as they fell against the opposite wall. “Don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long,” Bucky murmured, his eyes half shut, his mouth back on Steve’s neck.

Steve was panting now. “Fine. In the car after your interview.”

“Screw that.” Bucky growled, his lips burning on Steve’s throat, his whisper hot in Steve’s ear. “Let’s start in the damn elevator.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I'm forced to sit through an hour-long class lecture about what does and does not define "business casual" (mostly for men) and I'm thinking about Stucky the whole time. 
> 
> Hope you liked?
> 
> [Side note, Bucky or Steve forgetting their old safeword from the forties and the other person teasing them until they remember it is a really cute idea, has anyone written smut of that? cause I need it like, yesterday.]


End file.
